


Give 'Em A Show That's So Splendiferous, Row After Row Will Crow Vociferous

by citizenjess (givehimonemore)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Forced Pregnancy, Implied Mpreg, Infantilized Loki, Intersex Loki (Marvel), Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Loki (Marvel)'s Lips Sewn Shut, Loki's Mewling Quim, Loki's Wager, M/M, Multi, Pony Play, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Self-Indulgent Kinky Nonsense, butt stuff, creative swearing, monster fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-27
Updated: 2018-06-27
Packaged: 2019-05-29 06:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15067175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givehimonemore/pseuds/citizenjess
Summary: "They are alive and Thanos is not, and Hela has promised them, albeit while sneering and laughing in turns, that when all is said and done, they'll end up 'buttfucking in Valhalla for all eternity,' and so what does it matter in the meantime if she has need of them from time to time, anyway."





	Give 'Em A Show That's So Splendiferous, Row After Row Will Crow Vociferous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CalamityCain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityCain/gifts), [ravenbringslight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravenbringslight/gifts), [fairychangeling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairychangeling/gifts), [patientalien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/patientalien/gifts).



> I don't know where this filth came from, but I'm kind of embarrassed and delighted by it in turns. I love the decadent hedonism of the Thorki fandom. You know the song referenced in the story title - it's the most Loki song ever, naturally. Please read the warnings before delving in, and enjoy!

1\. 

It could be worse, Thor thinks as he watches Loki, curled as much as possible into a concave ball of flesh that is nonethless intricately wrapped with colorful rope, extend below the ceiling far enough that his toes just barely clear the ground. They are, in fact, both alive. They are alive and Thanos is not, and Hela has promised them, albeit while sneering and laughing in turns, that when all is said and done, they'll end up "buttfucking in Valhalla for all eternity," and so what does it matter in the meantime if she has need of them from time to time, anyway.

Hela's summons' are always rather random. On more than one occasion, Thor and Loki have been called upon to play the role of party entertainment for a tight inner circle of demonic confidantes. Suffice it to say, feeling the grooves of an altar as it leaves marks on their skin, and being molested by all manner of monster, tentacled, clawed, or otherwise, has become more commonplace than either of them care to admit. Still, this is what they owe to her, what Loki owes because this is the deal they made even before Asgard burned and Thanos pieced together that Norns-damned glove, and thus this is the deal that Thor has graciously agreed to help him honor in order to keep him in Hela's good graces as much as such a thing is possible, because he's fucking Thor and all, and so if anxiety over how miserable Loki appears while he squirms in the ceiling bondage makes the God of Thunder see red, he will keep it in check for the sake of the long game.

Loki's accoutrement today also apparently includes tightly pinching clamps for his nipples, as well as a ring that is snuggly affixed to the base of his cock. He is also gagged. Thor knows that Hela will go easier on them both if they follow her rules, and so he has dutifully made sure to foist the thick plug in Loki's ass upon his brother for the better part of a week prior to their engagement in Hel. These, of course, are some of the perks, getting to twist and tease his precious adopted kin, oiling him up and bringing him down again, and then again and again after that, all culmintaing in a big finish in the Underworld. They can endure this, Thor knows, because in between, there is the feeling of Loki bodily pressed against him, encircled in his arms, smaller and craftier but also stronger than anyone gives him credit for being, and Thor would sacrifice a great many things for the knowledge that he gets to do this forever.

Tonight, there are no other guests, simply Hela, smearing Loki with bodily fluids, mostly his own, and teasing him with both emotional and physical barbs as she sees fit. To ensure Thor behaves until it's his turn to tag in and Hela's turn to be a spectator for her own private erotic play, he has been magically chained to an adjacent wall, fully wondrous of the scene playing out before him, to say nothing of fully aroused. That is, he utterly hates how badly Hela gets Loki riled up, but, well, again, there are perks for them both if they play their cards right, and Loki has a brilliant poker face. It doesn't fool Thor anymore, it probably never did, really, but it's good enough for these purposes.

'It didn't fool Thanos either, though.' Sometimes, Hela's taunts hit too close to home, mimicking the all too frequent voice in Thor's head that reminds him of every mistake he has ever made in his long lifetime. Conversely, Thanos would singularly keep Hela entertained residually for eons. "Look at how easily he keyed into the love you have for your brother," she stage whispers near Loki's ear, and Thor tries not to react, tries to keep his head down and focus on centering himself even though the chains around his wrists are burning now and his legs are sore from holding their long-standing position. His own outfit is somewhat heartier than Loki's bondage-with-a-smile (or a grimace and the faintest sound of whimpering, same difference) look: Bare-chested, but with gladiator-style footwear and straps holding up very forgiving undergarments, as well as his usual helmet. It would be freezing anywhere else, but he can handle it here. He will endure anything and everything here if it means he will be allowed to remain by Loki's side for the rest of his life and everything that follows.

He is fairly certain Loki will, too. He is pretty sure after all that has happened between them that Loki similarly treasures him, though part of his ongoing penance before the Goddess of Death is such because he is seemingly unable to express it properly. Thor is easy in that sense, really; Thor is a beautiful, golden, open font of truth, and he knows Hela is somewhat disappointed that his soul will not remain in her realm once he has finally shuffled off of the mortal coil for good, because the sun nurtures things even down here. Still, she will keep her promise to allow them to achieve paradise in their shared afterlife, and so will keep his promise to attend to her requests for housekeeping and other sundry activities in the meantime.

"What if your positions had been reversed?" Hela cups Loki's cheek in a long-nailed hand, forcing their eye contact. He is poor at maintaining it, largely because he is simultaneously trying to hide how close he is to tears. Memories come unbidden to his mind of That Time, of the sickly feeling of Thanos being in his head, of being unable to escape or breathe without knowing he was being watched. Thanos had toyed with him, and then just as thoroughly had enjoyed breaking him apart, piece by piece. Loki knows he is yet missing some pieces, but he is firm, now, in the knowledge that Thor will cradle him as gingerly as needed to accommodate for any weak spots in his armor, so to speak. Thor has always been a constant force in his life, even when he had died the first time, even when his heart was so consumed with grief and petty jealousies and hurts that he had convinced himself he would be happy for Thor and Odin and the Frost Giants and all of his childhood enemies to burn. Thor will never not be there, not anymore, that was Hela's guarantee, as long as he played nice when she beckoned and avoided being, in her words, "a little shit." It went without saying that she still held a grudge for that messy business involving Surtur and Ragnarok and the ruination of Asgard, and that there was no appeasing that. Still, at times, Thor was even almost pleased to oblige her demands.

"What if Big Brother had to decide your fates?" Hela purrs. "Do you think he would have been so easy to manipulate? Would Thanos have been able to crack open his shell and dig out all the contents and spread them paper thin across the ether, or would he have been a harder nut? I bet he's still pretty soft," Hela declares, and the next moment, Loki quakes anew as he finds himself face to face with one of Hela's long knives, so close and sharp that it pricks the side of his face and he winces. 

"Tell me, Thor," Hela commands, and Thor obediently looks up at the spectacle before him. The Goddess of Death sturdies her hand beneath Loki's chin, forcing his face up like a show horse. "What would you do to ensure I did not skewer your little half-Jotun godling through the middle, right where he hangs? Beg me," she says simply, and to his credit, Thor maintains both a steady tone and gaze. The blade of her long knife moves to pinch at Loki's neck, even elicits a fat red drop of blood to drip noisily onto the ground, and the God of Mischief lets out a soft squawk. Hela smirks. "Beg me for his life, First Son of Odin."

"Please," Thor says as smoothly as he can. "Please, Eternal Majesty, I beseech your grace, please let Loki live. I will do anything and everything necessary to keep him at my side, this I swear to you."

"Hmm." Hela appears to seriously consider this. "I could have you fight some of my greatest warriors in the Realm. You would do so without question. You have before. What a good big brother you are, Thor Odinson." She gestures vaguely. "But I suppose since you asked so nicely, I will grant your request today without further challenge to prove your loyalty." The knife disappears into nothingness, though Hela still stands close by, gesturing at the bound Loki. "Come and show me the things you do with him," she tells him. "Do it very well and I will let you go on your merry, rainbow footlighted way this evening. Put on," she says with a small flourish, waggling her fingers a little, "a show for me."

Thor nods. He has played this game before and knows he can do it well and convincingly, enough to appease Hela, as best one might be able to appease the literal Goddess of Death. A moment later, his bonds release him, and he falls gracefully to the ground on his feet. He ignores the remnants of his immediate discomfort in favor of stealing closer to Loki, in order to do as Hela bades so that he can relieve Loki of his own pain as soon as possible, preferably in the comfort of their unofficially shared bed chambers on New Asgard. As it is, his heart breaks to see how poorly Loki is currently able to hide his emotions; indeed, they are painted raw across his face, in tear tracks and unwitting arousal and lovely eyes that come to rest upon Thor's face as if beholding their savior for the first time up close.

"Brother," Thor intones lowly. He runs rough, soft fingertips over Loki's fluttering eyelids, cups Loki's cheek and wipes gently at one of the damp lines streaking his beautiful, androgynously angled face. Loki leans into his touch as best he is able, and Thor can tell he is doing his damnedest not to cry or emote any further; and yet, it is a futile endeavor, and Thor loves him for it all the same. 

"Let me help," he tells Loki as soothingly as he can. He begins to run his hands along the most sensitive flesh on Loki's body, anywhere rope or metal twists or rubs; he brushes fingertips over his brother's pinched nipples and Loki lets out a small wail. He's drooled a little bit around the red rubber gag stuck between his teeth; instinctively, Thor's hands flutter over the straps holding the device in place around Loki's head, and Hela seems to anticipate his interest from the high throne across the room where she is now perched.

"Darling, pull out that plug and pop it into his pretty mouth, if you would," she drawls. Thor tries his best to ignore the pained anticipation on Loki's face, opting instead to dedicate his time to removing the intrusive plug from his brother's strained, too-oft-abused ass hole. Moisture suctions it in place, and when it finally is removed with a squelching 'pop' sound, Loki keens and wiggles in his bonds.

Thor moves robotically to look upon his brother's face anew. The ball gag comes free at last, and Thor gently pets Loki's cheek as he helps to remove it safely and mostly painlessly from between Loki's small, pearly teeth. "Thor," Loki gasps wetly, brokenly, and Thor risks Hela's wrath to lean in and press their foreheads and noses together, his own mouth forming quiet words against Loki's lips of comfort and love. 

"I will keep you safe, brother." He allows their mouths to meet in a surprisingly chaste kiss, one which Loki desperately chases when they have parted again. Thor pets his hair sadly, and tries not to feel infuriated by the lone tear that slips down Loki's cheek. "Help me, and try to enjoy as much pleasure as I am able to give you today." Loki nods, and Thor, no longer pushing his luck, ignores the distasteful moue that his brother makes as he replaces the ball gag with the soiled butt plug within Loki's mouth. "You are so beautiful to me, brother, so very beautiful," Thor promises him, and then places a finger to his own lips. "Now, hush. Let me in."

Thor fucks into him as gently as possible, while still sating his own needs and also making sure that Loki emotes enough for Hela's liking. He makes Loki squirm and cry and stretch to accommodate him, plants kisses along his spine to aid him in the act. When he himself is complete, he hesitates but a moment before repositioning himself to be able to lap inside of Loki's spent anus, spearing his brother with his tongue as thoroughly as possible until he can almost no longer taste himself inside of him. The ministrations are more than enough to put Loki over the edge, but Thor is more than happy to sheath his brother's leaking cock in his big fingers and stroke him through his orgasm. For good measure, he removes the plug from Loki's mouth and replaces it quickly with his come-slickened fingers; seeming to know they have almost been seen through this, Loki nods and laps at them almost agreeably, earning a satisfied sigh from Hela across the room. 

"Untie him and you are free to go." She waves her fingers dismissively, and yet cocks her head to watch Thor bodily work to release Loki from his remaining bondage. "Remember to come promptly when next you are called," she adds, and Thor inclines his head. 

"With thanks, Mistress," Thor tells her. He gathers up Loki to him, not bothering to reaffix his clothing, but rather balls up the collection of garments to take home and launder while Loki reclines safely in oversized tunics and atop majestic furs collected by Thor personally throughout the centuries. Mjolnir is a comfortable, sturdy weight in his hand as he raises it above their heads, and thunder and lightning crackle and mingle together as they take their leave. In their wake, Hela takes in the remnants of their theatrical performance and smiles with all of her teeth.

2\. 

It is dark. He cannot flail or even speak; the golden thread that has torn into the flesh of his lips, leaving a jagged criss-cross of unhealed, red scars in its wake, has bodily seen to that. Likewise, Thanos does not touch him, but he is everywhere and nowhere, inside of Loki and immersing him in his monstrous astral stench, and so he feels violated enough even without actual physical contact.

"He hates you for what you have done." Thanos' voice is soothing in the way that a knife to the throat can be almost a calming presence before it is used to slice into delicate flesh, carding through arteries with fearful symmetry. Loki does not need clarification to know that the pronoun "He" is meant to refer to Thor. He does not protest. He finds it harder and harder to assure himself that Thanos is lying to him merely to get a rise out of him, to ensure that he will remain the obedient minion. As the months drag on, it is simply easier not to fight. 

It almost feels like a hand is cupping the back of his neck, raising the fine hairs along his scalp with the faintest brush. "When he realizes you still breathe, and that you've used all of your remaining life force to sabotage everything he loves, he will slaughter you where you stand without a trace of remorse. He will cleave you in two, and your destiny will be fulfilled, and mine will be aided by your sacrifice. He will never forgive you your transgressions."

The silent question hangs unanswered in the air. "Do not fear, little god," Thanos asserts after an expanse of silence renders Loki still. "He will die with honor. It will be bloody, to be sure," he adds, and he can feel the smile like jaws through his spine, "but honorable. That's all you can hope for, isn't it?" And even though Loki cannot manage to nod, he knows Thanos can sense his agreement.

When Thor crashes down atop the wing of the plane, hammer in hand, eyes furious blue shards, Loki's heart leaps to his throat, and he surprises himself by being able to still feel fear (and love, and lust, and misery), watching his brother's gaze slowly turn towards the sickly pallor of his visage. There is no golden thread tying his mouth shut here, and yet, he finds himself rendered silent nonetheless.

3\. 

The dust on the battlefield stings his eyes. When he falls to his knees, he knows that this is not the end for him, but in the swirling ebb of fatigue and heartbreak that has not left him since Loki died, leaving behind an endless morass of decay and lifelessness in which he finds himself but listlessly carrying on until fate at last decides he has paid back his many debts, he finds himself not bothering to get up right away. 

When the hand appears, long fingers and short, well-kept nails encased in wan flesh distended downwards, an offering of help in the midst of chaos, it does not register immediately. He grasps it, allowing it to tug him into first a one-legged kneel, and then into a standing position with surprising strength. The slight, hitched breath that accompanies the force needed to get Thor upright is another clue, and Thor at last glances up questioningly as though staring into the sun.

Loki's hair is longer than he remembers, as though even in death, or rebirth, perhaps, he has managed to keep it growing. He is slight and smiling and real, and though part of Thor's attention is necessarily on the hordes of deceased Hel warriors coming ever towards the main fight in determined haste, in a way that Thor instinctively knows is on their side, he cannot help but spare a brief strand of attention for his brother, who is neither skeletal nor intangible, and whose hand lingers longer than strictly necessary, as though his brother is relieved to see him, too.

"Hello, brother," Loki breathes. He appears to give Thor a brief once-over, before being rudely interrupted by Thor's lunging embrace that folds him conveniently into his brother's arms for an indeterminable length of time. "The sun still shines," he murmurs in Thor's ear, and Thor impressively manages to hold onto his new elfin-forged battle ax at which Loki vaguely gestures while simultaneously clinging to his brother for dear life.

4.

The demons especially enjoy Loki's Jotun form, the way his sharper, more pointed teeth and ruby eyes both open in frequent surprise while they fuck into his various orifices, even those Thor was not previously aware existed. There is still plenty of attention paid to him, of course, such as the tail of the Midgard Serpent currently nestled several inches inside of him, suspending him, impaled, a number of feet in the air. Still, he does not blame Hela's otherworldly friends and associates for favoring his brother's pretty, azure skin, for pawing eagerly at the raised scarification and guiltlessly wringing as many sweet sounds from his throat as possible. Doubtlessly, he will make up any perceived imbalance in treatment to Loki later, either in ensuing rounds here on this night, or later at home, where Loki can be free to emit whatever noises and emotions he wishes, sans taunting, with only Thor's boundless patience and love guiding him through. It will be enough for the both of them somehow, Thor will see to that.

5.

He can tell that Loki is not excited about the evening's planned activities, that probably the last thing Loki would like to do is spend the night suspended in time and space at the whims of the Goddess of Death and her merry band of monsters. Still, Loki's bad attitude cannot be allowed to ruin this for them, and so Thor takes it upon himself to help his brother relax in anticipation of their latest visit to Hel and back.

The springtime air is quite a lot cooler than it will be below Asgard, and the stables are drafty besides. Loki is half-Frost Giant, however, and Thor remains fully clothed, and so even though his brother's Aesir-pigmented skin is currently dotted with goosebumps, along his slim limbs and even the curved flesh of his rump, Thor knows he is not truly chilled to the point of discomfort. He revels in this knowledge by pinching the nonetheless peaked flesh of one of Loki's nipples, eliciting a charming series of grunts and gagged protests. 

"Ssshh," Thor tells him; Loki cannot crane his neck enough to see his brother where he stands, but is confident that he hovers near, even before Thor grips and parts the globes of his ass with his own meaty hands. Staked out as he is, legs spread, limbs tethered, Loki knows he is at the whim of his brother, and tries not to think too much about his own lack of control, even though Thor referring to him as his own personal steed and fingering his ass and the now dripping cunt he has affixed himself with for the time being feels good enough that he barely needs to think at all. Indeed, Thor's mouth dips to collect the excesses from Loki's quim, and he is fairly certain his brain short circuits altogether.

"Time to ride you, my little filly," Thor asserts. A hand gently grips his thigh. "You will be a perfect brood mare for Mephisto this evening, Loki. How I long to see your belly distended and filled with child, to watch you struggle to accommodate the birth of your latest monster offspring from your canal. Do you think this one might have my eyes, brother?" Thor continues, and Loki tries to roll his own eyes before Thor's tongue re-plumbs the depths of his glistening holes and causes him to lose the ability to complain or counter him at all.


End file.
